After watching a “lady” urinate down her leg three times last summer during a concert of one of our favorite artists, Brian and I banned outdoor performances until we could recover. With our local country radio station giving away free tickets to a show featuring several artists, we thought it might be a good idea to give it another chance.
Considering the wholesome-as-apple-pie image of country music, we had assumed it would produce a more mature audience. In the very least, we anticipated that the crowd would be able to, if nothing else, control their bladders until they made it to the bathroom. This is an assumption we made incorrectly. After sitting on the highway, waiting to exit for over an hour, a girl erupted from the car in front of us and proceeded to pull down her pants and, well, you can guess what followed.
Eventually, we came within blocks of the amphitheater and I guess you can say the crowd surprised us a bit. Trusting our intuition, we quickly noticed they were both younger and drunker than last year and we made a prompt decision to turn around. It wasn’t long before we were getting texts that fights were breaking out on the lawn area of the venue. Man, did we dodge a bullet.
Our decision to cross the bridge and hit Philly for cheese steaks instead of the concert sparked a conversation between Brian and me about what is and is not fun. While we sometimes get the feeling that others may look at us as boring or unexciting because we’d rather read a good book on the beach than hit up a bar is A-OK with us. After all, fun, like beauty, is all in the eye of the beholder. I’d pick a Geno’s date, just the two of us any day over being surrounded by thousands of people whose idea of a good time means using the lawn as a toilet.
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